if i fall, you fall with me
by kenmoh
Summary: When the senpai's leave, what happens to everyone who they left behind?
1. always here - kuroken

_This is probably my first attempt on Haikyu! fanfiction + angst. I don't own Haikyu! - if I did, I would've invited authors of different sports anime/manga and have us write a collab together._

 _Kuroken | Bokuaka | Iwaoi | i'll probably still add others but for now... I swear the first part of this was all angst, why did it suddenly turn out this way?!_

* * *

He should be happy, to say at least. He finally took one step towards the future. He was equally happy as his family, eyes almost beaming inpride as they took a good old look at their son in a formal attire; hands sometimes trying to straigten the untamed hair that he had. He was supposed to be happy.

He grimaced. There was the unspoken part of his body ― one deeply attach to his best friend who wasn't happy at all. Speaking of. He felt a tug on his sleeves, the oh-so-familiar tug done by the small hand of a boy. Without a word, he turned; grinning at the shorter boy in front of him.

"Congrats, Kuroo." Kenma says, the usual monotone voice that he had.

Behind him was the famous volleyball team, Nekoma. Their libero was nowhere to be found, that was to be expected. The team had smiles on their faces, each varying from one another. Tears misted in their eyes ― but for him, their captain; they held it back with pride.

"Don't go crying on me now," Kuroo jokes as he steps forward, closer to his team. "I'm watching your performance."

"Captain," Yamamoto said, stepping forward as he bowed. "Thank you for your hard work."

The others followed, shouting as they did so. Kuroo smiled at his former team; who was trying to hold back the tears that had escaped. Kuroo stepped forward, tousling their hair. His team looked up, tears on their cheeks but their eyes had held pride.

"Be sure to make it into Nationals," He says, grinning. "And beat that Akaashi for me."

"Osu."

Kuroo tilted his head, looking at Kenma; who in the whole duration was holding his sleeves. His expression still hasn't changed ― no crack of emotion or whatsoever. His golden eyes were not facing him, but as the second grew by, his grip had tightened on his sleeves.

"Kenma," Kuroo calls, tousling the pudding hair of the boy. "You won't go crying on me like Yamamoto, would you?"

Kenma shakes his head but still doesn't look up. Kuroo chuckles slightly, crouching down to meet the boy's height. "Oi, you should sleep more often. You haven't grown an inch since first year."

On this, Kenma looks up. He scrunches his nose. Kuroo chuckles at this since ever since he was young, he prided himself on being able to read Kenma ― more than anyone could.

"Kenma," He calls out as Kenma's golden eyes snapped to him. "I'll visit regularly, all right?"

"Kuroo," Kenma calls his name. Kenma had always depended on Kuroo and now that it has come to this, what happens then? He wouldn't have to talk much, not when Kuroo could do it for him. Kuroo gave him a team ― some friends to talk to (even if he still likes video games better). Kuroo had been there with him ― ever since he was small; holding his hand through it all. He had been there when Kenma wasn't in the mood or when Kenma can't beat the boss and he asks Kuroo for help. He had been there when Kenma was down on the dumps ― more so than usual.

"Kuroo," He calls once more. "You're still going to fulfill your promise about helping me beat the final boss, aren't you?"

Kuroo smiles; then he chuckles. "Of course, Kenma. When have I ever broken a promise?"

Kuroo.

At long last, Kenma lets his facade broke. He clutches the boy's sleeves tighter, his fist closing in on it. Kuroo chuckles before placing his chin on Kenma's pudding hair ― hand automatically going to the younger boy's back, patting it soothingly.

"I'll still be helping you," Kuroo whispers on his ear. "I'm always here, Kenma."


	2. facade - bokuaka

It was fucking three in the morning. The roosters nearby were wailing, waiting for the sun to rise. It wasn't music to his ears, no, but it wasn't a nuisance either. Coldness was seeping through his blankets, under the fabric of his white sleeveless shirt and black shorts ― his usual comfortable sleeping garments since he was never that much fond of pajama's.

"You're terrible," He silently chides himself as he gets up.

He drags himself to his bathroom, the light almost blinding in his sight. Unlike other people who had owls and volleyballs as their background for their comfort room, Akaashi's room was just like any other ― plain blue colored paint, he doesn't even know the particularly color but that's beside the point. On one side was a white sink and above it, an average mirror hung on the wall. It wasn't that big but it wasn't that small either, just enough for Akaashi to see the red nose and the dark bugs under his eyes.

"I am terrible." He frowns, closing his eyes. "Just a few hours from now."

Akaashi felt terrible. He felt guilty for thinking such things last night, especially after seeing the happiness radiating off the older boy. He felt nauseous ― like every part of his body was burning, his insides twisting topsy-turvy.

"Akaashi!" Bokuto called, seeing the black-haired boy. "I did it."

Akaashi gave him a small smile. "You did. Congratulations, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto gave him the usual ear-splitting grin. He glances at the team ― his team who was right behind Akaashi. Half of the people in Fukurodani was already in their third year ― their last year and in six months, they all knew that Fukurodani would never be the same again.

Not without the noisy ace.

Akaashi felt a large lump forming in his throat ― unbearable and painful to gulp down. He was watching Bokuto's exchange with the team but Akaashi could not register what he had said, nor the reason why Bokuto had laughed. Akaashi was wallowing his own guilt ― it was Bokuto's special day after all.

"Akaashi, what are you spacing out for?" Bokuto grinned, slinging an arm around Akaashi's shoulders. "We still have to play the traditional Fukurodani goodbye!"

Akaashi nodded his head as Bokuto grinned and dragged him back to the gymnasium. Every step felt heavy for Akaashi, every grin felt like he was wallowing in the depths of his guilt ― just like how Akaashi's mind was on memory lane right now.

"Bokuto-san, you're too loud."

"Akaashi! I am a growing man and a growing man needs to be loud!"

Akaashi sighed. "Bokuto-san, that doesn't make any sense."

Step.

"Hey hey hey! I am still the strongest!"

Akaashi felt a small smile tug his lips, looking at the grinning Bokuto ― hands in the air and cheers filling the air. He looks over to Akaashi, giving him the greatest grin that he saw.

Step.

"Bokuto-san, you failed your mathematics."

"Akaashi! You promised not to tell anyone."

Step.

"Akaashi ― "

Akaashi, for the first time in his life had collapsed on the ground right after he took one step inside the gym. He could feel the burden of the world on his shoulders; the seemingly formidable lump in his throat had not left, not even when Akaashi covered his face in shame.

"Akaashi?"

Stop. Stop. Stop. Don't cry. It's Bokuto-san's day. Akaashi, hold it back. Stop. Stop. Sto―

Akaashi felt the firmness and warmness of the hug that Bokuto had given him. He felt the stung in his eyes; the pain aching in his heart ― wanting to be noticed. Akaashi felt Bokuto hold him tighter and Akaashi buried his face in Bokuto's neck ― memorizing his scent.

"I was wondering if that composure of yours would ever snap, Akaashi." Bokuto said and for the first time in his life Akaashi heard the soft, gentle tone that it held ― not the usual loud and obnoxious Bokuto.

"I'm just concerned," Akaashi whispers softly. "You might fail your Mathematics again."

Bokuto threw his head back and laughed. "Akaashi," He said, burying his head on Akaashi's soft curls. "You promised not to tell anyone."

Akaashi's hand ― had their own minds ― going over the border to hug the older boy back. His hand had clutched the formal attire that Bokuto wore for the ceremony. He felt Bokuto hug him tighter; if that was humanely impossible.

"No one's going to reprimand me if I go overboard again." Bokuto whispers, low. "I'm going to miss you, Akaashi."

"I'll miss you to, Bokuto-san."

"Hey hey hey. Of course you're going to miss me," Bokuto says, pulling back as he wiggled his brows at Akaashi. "I am the strongest after all!"

Akaashi opened his mouth but was cut off when the team chose the perfect moment to interrupt. Konoha smirked. "Is this the traditional goodbye ceremony for Bokuto-san?"

"Only for Bokuto-san, huh?"

For the first time in his life, Akaashi wanted to hide in a closet.


	3. comfort - iwaoi

Iwaizumi was fuming. His steps were heavy and frantic and his expression showed no less. His brows we're twitching in irritation and his hands were stiff on his side all because of one certain person, _Oikawa-fucking-Tooru._

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa greets him nervously as Iwaizumi steps in — for the first time — in the overly large gymnasium of Oikawa's school. "Eh... eto, calm down, Iwa-chan! I'm absolutely fine!"

Iwaizumi huffed, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "You pushed yourself to the limits again." Iwaizumi says, his tone even out.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa calls, gulping nervously. "It's fine. I'm absolutely fine!"

Iwaizumi crosses his arms on his chest, still irritated. Oikawa was sitting on the bench — his legs stretched out, arms on his sides and a forced grin on his face. The whole team paused to look at the show. Oikawa was still Oikawa. Carefree, laid back and terrifying — but he was a damn fine setter. No one could argue with that and no one can speak to Oikawa like that — with arms tucked in their chest, eyes twitching in anger.

"Oikawa-senpai," One of Oikawa's younger teammate said, mesmerized. "Is nervous and fidgety in front of that muscular guy."

"He managed to scold Oikawa-senpai," One added. "Not even the coach does that."

"You pushed yourself to the limit again," Iwaizumi said, glaring at his friend. "Practicing till you drop is not the answer, Shittykawa!"

"Mean, Iwa-chan." Oikawa whined. "Don't shorten your insults."

"Shitty Oikawa."

"Iwa-chaaaaan!" Oikawa said, a small pout forming in his lips. "I'm fine. I can walk—" Oikawa tried to stand up and use his bad knee when he feel unsophisticatedly to the ground.

"You we're saying?"

"Ah. You must be Iwaizumi-san." Oikawa's college coach approached them with a smile. "I'm sorry for calling you out so late."

Iwaizumi bowed slightly. "Thank you for taking care of that goofball trash over there."

"Iwa-chan!"

"He pushed his limits again — for the third time this week— " Iwaizumi casts Oikawa a hard look on which he ignored and whistled innocently. "He landed on his bad knee and stumbled across the benches. Nothing was dislocated and there we're no fractures but please take him home."

Iwaizumi bowed again. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

Iwaizumi walks towards Oikawa who was gulping nervously on his seat. Iwaizumi crossed his arms — still annoyed at the fact that Oikawa went to extremes again ; but this time Iwaizumi wasn't there with him.

"Iwa-chan."

"Trashykawa," Iwaizumi said. "If you're going to go to extremes again, I'll punch you."

"Eh? So mean, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa pouted.

Iwaizumi bowed politely at Oikawa's teammates. "I'll be taking him now. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Iwaizumi helps Oikawa in standing up but Oikawa would hiss everytime he takes a step. Iwaizumi sighed. He crouched down in front of Oikawa, head tilting to look back at him — who had his eyes widened and lips slowly parting in shock.

"Hurry up, Crappykawa."

"So romantic, Iwa-chan." Oikawa teases as he hissed again.

He climbs unto Iwa's back before Iwa could change his mind. Oikawa buries his head on the shorter boy's nape. Iwaizumi knew the moment he saw Oikawa that something was wrong. Oikawa tries to stiffle the sobs that escapes his lips as Iwaizumi carries him to their shared apartment. His cold tears dropped right on Iwaizumi's nape, making the shorter boy shiver in response.

Iwaizumi opened the plain green door of their apartment, kicking his shoes. With a steady and with expertise, he managed to get Oikawa's shoes off his feet as the taller boy kept sobbing on his back. Iwaizumi deposited Oikawa on his bed — frankly, Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa uses his bed ; just on the room across his, at all — before he changes into something comfortable. He gets out and grabs milkbread — the one that Oikawa favors especially if he's in bad mood — and the X-Files on the bookshelf on the side.

He grabs the fries he brought earlier and puts them in a plate before walking back to the room. He nudges the milkbread to Oikawa — who grabs it without complaints. He puts the X-Files on the video player and settles in the floor before he pushes the play button. Iwaizumi places the fries on his lap, waiting for Oikawa to share the reason why he just went o extremes.

"I hate it, you know." Iwaizumi mutters softly, eyes suddenly heaving upward. "When you go to extremes but you hurt yourself in the process. When are you going to learn, Bakakawa?"

"Iwa-chan." Oikawa hiccups, his calloused hands moving to grasped Iwaizumi's.

"Especially if I'm not there to stop you," Iwaizumi clucks the base of his tongue. "It's kind of frustrating."

"It's just... I feel like it isn't enough. Nothing is. I feel like I'm inferior — again. I feel like I haven't been training enough." Iwaizumi just sits there, listening to the hiccups that escapes Oikawa's lips between those heavy words.

He doesn't say anything — nor does he say it's okay. His back was still turned away from Oikawa but his hands were intertwined with the taller boy ; soothingly forming circles with his thumb.

"If I have been a better captain, we would've won the Inter-High Preliminaries. If I had worked harder, I would've beaten that damn Ushiwaka. If I had improved even more, we would've been in Nationals — you, me, Mattsun, Hanamaki, Wattachi, Kindaichi, Kunimi, even Mad Dog-chan."

"We did our best, Oikawa." Iwaizumi hums. "Don't say that. You did the best out of all of us. You — You chased the ball and feel on your bad knee, what more could you have done?"

"But it wasn't enough," Oikawa felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "I wanted to bring the whole team to Nationals. I wanted to — " Oikawa sobbed. "I wanted to stand at the same court, with you guys — again."

"Me too," Iwaizumi murmurs. "I mean, our volleyball club is great and all but... I guess it can never compare to Seijoh."

"Iwa-chan." Oikawa called, sobbing. He calls Iwaizumi by his nickname again and again — like a broken record. Frankly, being with Iwa-chan makes Oikawa calm down — more than anyone else.

"Oikawa." Iwaizumi calls. "Tooru."

"No fair... Iwa-chan." Oikawa hiccups.

Iwaizumi smiles. He lets Oikawa's hand go, putting the fries on the side. He places himself between Oikawa's parted thighs, hands cupping to erase the tears on his pale cheeks. Oikawa hiccups again, calling on Iwaizumi's name again and again. Iwaizumi smiles before he intertwines their hands again, tighter this time.

He offers no words of comfort for he knows, someday — somewhere, it will be okay. Someday — the pieces would fall together. For now, Iwaizumi wanted to enjoy this. The warmth of Oikawa against his, the genuine smile placed on the boy's lips — which rarely occurred and the hand intertwined with his — never wanting to let go.


	4. not here - iwaoi

_i'm in deep iwaoi hell. H E L P!_

Oikawa Tooru was one hell of a setter. He watches every-fucking-teammate he has and supports them, until he can no longer to. He draws out the spikers power, matching his own toss with the spiker. He often concentrates too hard on matches and his serves are hell to deal with but Oikawa Tooru was human too.

"Sorry, Fiji-san." Oikawa apologizes, sweat dropping off his face. "The toss was too low."

Fiji only bows respectively. The whole gymnasium was cheering for the other team—loud voices shouting the spiker's and the team's name. Oikawa breathed in deeply. _Difficult_. Oikawa should've known that winning is difficult—being able to experience it above all. College was different—a whole lot different from high school.

"Don't mind. Don't mind. We'll get the next one." Oikawa stares deeply at the net. His concentration was even brought to a notch that even the other team had to flinch. His brown milky chocolate eyes were focused, his gaze unwavering, his breathing even and his face as calm as the eerie wind. He stares deeply at the ball, following it's every moment—watching as it drops on the Captain's arms; Ryu-chan connecting their ball in play.

Oikawa raised his arms. "Left!" Oikawa for a split second feels the ball in his hand. He tosses it in the air, almost hastily—the ball up high in the air.

"Iwa-chan!" He calls out— _out of habit_. Oikawa had always depended on Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was able to contain him—not in the negative way. It was only Iwaizumi who knew him better than anyone. It was him who didn't judge Oikawa. It was Iwaizumi who was able to pick up the pieces and in times of difficulty, Oikawa always sends his tosses to Iwaizumi. Oikawa's eyes widened—it wasn't because of the ball falling on the ground, nor his teammates going hard for it. It was because Oikawa had unconsciously muttered his friend's name.

The referee blew the whistle—the other team had won the first set. Oikawa's gaze dropped down to the ground, his dark curls covering the emotion that his eyes had held. Oikawa walks towards the bench, where his Captain only taps him on the shoulder as an encouragement.

"Oikawa—"

"I know, coach." Oikawa mutters, eyes still dragging on the ground. He taps Kirishima-san's—who was a substitute setter—back. "I'm leaving everything to you."

"Oikawa—"

But Oikawa wasn't listening. He was dragging himself towards the bathroom. His head was down and he didn't bother apologizing to all the people he bumped. He had let his team down―again. It feels like deja vu, where his last battle ― the last time he had stepped on the Sendai Gymnasium ever again.

He breathes out deeply. His towel hung loose on his neck. If he had been a better captain, things wouldn't have ended there. If he had been a better setter, he wouldn't have to depend on Iwa-chan, not on difficult situations. If he had been a better person, he wouldn't have let that ball fall on the ground. Oikawa didn't know how long he was walking, nor did he care. His feet were sore and exhausted but his thoughts were nowhere near done. Oikawa knows his weakness, he knows that he can never compete with a genius or the fact that a team is stronger with six people.

Oikawa doesn't know why he decided to give up. He detours to his house before he can even change his mind and walk all the way to Miyagi. He hasn't seen anyone he knows in high school for years and for the love of God, he managed to utter the name of the person he wanted to see the most.

He lets a tear drop in his eye. Iwaizumi Hajime was not with him, not in this lifetime. _His Iwa-chan wasn't with him_. The strong lean shoulder that he used to cry on wasn't there anymore.

Oikawa felt his heart drop at that thought. If only... If only he had been there for Iwa-chan, just like how Iwa-chan had been there with him for all those years, Iwaizumi Hajime would never have committed suicide.

Oikawa wanted to play once more. He wanted to stand on the same court with Iwa-chan again but Oikawa knows, he can never do it, not in this lifetime.


End file.
